Chapter two: in which no food is accepted.

 

Does she eeeeh-ver staaahhhp walking? …

My feet are killing me…

We’ve been walking for miles and miles… aaaand miiiiiles! …

It’s way past dinner time, and we already skipped lunch. …

Does she expect us to make three days worth of walking in one day? //Can you be a little bit more dramatic? Just a little bit, until you reach the perfect pitch for whining?// a maliciously sweet voice says in my ear.

 

Yeah, well, you would never get it. I’d love to be an imaginary person too, just floating inside someone’s brain: there’s no walking involved, just talking. //But there’s a loooot of whining!// my daymon makes itself heard again. It quit talking to me a few hours ago, when we disagreed about… food. It said I should have enough practice putting my foot in my mouth by now, and if I try that, it should keep me from complaining about being hungry, and I said it should shut up, or I’ll roast its little tail and eat it instead. I won. I think. Technically, since it’s residing inside my head, I could imagine it any way I wanted to, including without its tail. :)))))

 

„Shit!” I say aloud, surprised by the sudden stop of the traveler walking ahead, or more precisely by bumping into her. 

 

„It’s getting dark soon,” she says. „Do you know of a good place to stop for the night, that we could reach in time?”

 

Those were basically the only words she said to me all day, except for „thank you” when I handed her the map. 

 

„How about right here? Anything wrong with this place?” – I should be so lucky. Of course we’ll need to walk some more… 

 

„Too open. Just that.” She looks around, then steps away from the path and starts going up the slope of the hill. 

 

Up?! //You did mention your luck.// But… the paths are safe. Safe! Anything else is … uncharted. 

 

„Wait!” We still didn’t exchange names, so that seemed like a good way to call her. „Wandering away from the path can be dangerous. That’s one of the rules: keep to the path.” 

 

„I like rules a lot,” she says, climbing the hill. She doesn’t look back. I guess she’s not so great in communicating intentions, is she? What am I supposed to do now? Either be left behind, or… //Come on! She thinks you’re chickenshit already.//

 

Shit, shit, shit, shit, it’s getting dark and we’re climbing up a hill, towards a grove of birch trees that looks likes a witches’ place of worship and spells, and which is so definitely O.U.T.S.I.D.E the path! 

 

She walks with the same step she walked all day, that makes me think of both resolution and hesitation at the same time. Like she has no idea where she’s heading, but she’s determined to go there. Not reassuring at the moment. Yet, she seems to have been here before. Not in this place, just … I don’t know. She knows what to do, she’s done it before. 

 

She stops next to a big boulder, after crossing most of the grove, turns around to check the place and takes her sword off. I stop suddenly, feeling my hair rising up on my head. What did she see? What did she hear? 

 

She simply sits, resting her back against the boulder, placing her sword in front of her. I stare, expectantly. No explanation. She found her place for the night. I… guess I should do the same. It’s already dark.

 

I sit a couple of yards across from her, and, as my knees creak and groan, my stomach brings me back to the pressing matters I had before we left the path. Taking off the satchel, I fish for the food bundle and bring it out. „Do you want something to eat?” I ask as I’m unbinding it. „I have dried fruit, sweet roots and nuts, and salted meat and bread, and even a bit of butter left from yesterday.”

 

„I have my own,” she says, shaking her head. Then puts her head on her knees and wraps the cloak tight around her, getting ready for sleep. 

 

Ummm… so… what now? Do I eat alone? Do I leave it all for morning and go to sleep too? 

 

I grab a piece of bread and push everything else back in the bundle. I settle down to sleep, munching on the bread. Maybe tomorrow things will go better… 

 

„I’m Reen, by the way,” I say in a whisper.

 

The beginnings. The map.

„My feet are bloody from walking, my throat is raw from the dust. I’ll take a moment’s rest and I’ll go on”, the traveler said softly, almost as an excuse, and sat on the rock next to mine.

„You’re coming from afar?” I ask shyly, knowing full well I shouldn’t talk to cloaked travelers.
«Could you have asked anything dumber?» my daymon snickers, sticking its pointy shoe in my ear drum as an emphasis.

But the traveler doesn’t laugh. Nor answers. Maybe it’s too stupid ‘a question. Or maybe it’s too long of an answer.

Or maybe my daymon was right, and some people on this travelers’ path are not really people at all, i think remembering its stories, while a feeling of dread is slowly settling in.

Or maybe… „Would you like some water?” I ask, remembering the raw throat, and point to the flask on top of my satchel. The hood of the cloak moves slightly, the traveler’s eyes must be following my finger, but, again, no answer.

I start to wonder if I’m here at all. Maybe the traveler was speaking alone, just stating a reason for stopping, not having anyone else to speak to. What if no one can see me?
«Are you trying on stupid thoughts to see if they suit you?» Funny daymon. Ha.

Ok, one more try. „You must be thirsty?” A pause. A nod. „so… water?” and I hastily bend to grab the flask.

Probably startled by the movement, the traveler swiftly stands and steps back.

I jump too, with a loud yelp.

„Ha, ha, sorry, I think I scared myself…” I say, embarrassed, from two feet behind my rock.
„Meeting anyone on this path makes me a bit jittery, after all the old folk tales, you know…”

„What old folk tales?”, the traveler asks, while she takes off her hood.

„You know… of djinns, and imps, fairy folk and what nots, who try to trick you on your quest.” I say smiling, while quietly laughing at myself inside my head now for being so cautious about a girl. I don’t even need my daymon to make fun of me this time. She looks younger than me. And she obviously sees me.

She must have heard the same tales, right? They all say to never trust a traveler you don’t know.
Especially here.

So, then… should I drink first, to show it’s really water? Would that work?
How can I convince her I’m not a djinn? Fairy folks are tied to a place, so maybe if we walk together for a while…

„How do you know about my Quest?” she asks tilting her head,

„What? No, in general, everyone’s on some quest… Wait, are you really on a Quest? But that’s like… for heroes..”

„You’re only a hero if you slay them.”

„Umm, no. You’re just famous if you slay them, but you need to be a hero to even start the Quest. And slaying them is kinda’ old fashioned, for armored knights and their kind. The humane way is to tame them, nowadays…”

She smiles.

„… as you even get to ride them, if you tame them right.” I go on with my argument, not noticing her smile yet.
„I’ve read the latest documentation.”

„You seem to know a lot about them,” she says with a question and a smile in her voice.

I feel a bit of derision there. „Maybe I’m planning my own Quest,” I say snappishly. „People do, you know, although not everyone has a sword and a cloak.”
Ok, truth is I kinda’ felt she was pulling my leg here, so I just said that. I’m not planning a Quest.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t think Quests exist. Just that there aren’t that many heroes to start them.

My quest is of the more common kind. I am on the path because I left from somewhere and I need to get somewhere else. And I just try to make the best of it while I’m here and maybe even enjoy the trip, when it’s not too dusty or cold.

She must have felt my snarky remark more sharply than it was meant, as she put her hood back on and straightened her back, getting ready to leave.

„Wait! Don’t you want water, at least?” I didn’t want her to leave. It’s not that common to meet people on the path…

„I’ll find a stream down the way, I guess.” she says, taking a step.

„Are you really on a Quest?”

Another step.

Shit. I really, really, could have done this better!
«You think?!» What do I do now, follow her? That would be lame. «Plus, she has a sword. If she doesn’t want you to follow, she could use it.» But, I mean… come on, how often do you meet people here? I’ve gotten tired hearing only my daymon in my head. And if she’s really on a Quest, what if this was meant to be? I could help. Can you think of any story where the hero does the journey alone?

„Hey, I can draw you a map to that stream, if you want. And further! Or I could walk there with you, if it’s ok. I am walking in the same direction.”
I try to see if this works. I really do know the way to the stream; I am just coming from there. It’s not that far, but you need to go around that patch of scorched land, and you could miss it if you take the high road all the way to its end.

She stops and turns. „Ok, a map could be useful.”

I take out a broad piece of cloth from the satchel and trace as much as I know from the path, down to the stream and around it, with notes. I don’t know that much further, but I wouldn’t mind finding out.
Especially if I can walk with someone who’s on a Quest. «And has a sword.» Ok, that too, maybe… But the best part is not being alone.
I give her the map, put on my satchel and join her, walking towards the stream. I keep a step’s distance though, as heroes are unpredictable, I hear. Let’s see what the road brings.

I wonder what comes beyond the stream. The map should say „Here be Dragons”